Fidelity's Fleece
by In Dreams
Summary: After Hermione Granger chose an unexpected path in her seventh year, her world was changed drastically. And with the return of Draco Malfoy to the wizarding world, her past will bring back the memories she wanted to forget.
1. Return

Wow look, a new fic! In a bit of writer's block with Night and Day this was conspired and wouldn't leave my brain until I put it down into writing. So now that this is here, I'm free to work on chapter 18.

As always, I own only the plot, and if you've got a moment, drop a review:)

* * *

She was aware of his eyes on her before she saw him. Silently cursing her luck, she took a furtive glance around Diagon Alley. Particularly into the deep, dark corners. It wasn't until she spun around, finding his silver eyes far too close to her own, that she paled, quickly looking away.

"Don't do that, Malfoy," she breathed, taking a step back. "You scared the shit out of me."

"What, five years and that's the greeting I get?" He said with the smirk that he was known for. "Clearly, Granger, your manners have been shot entirely to hell."

"You aren't exactly the type of person I need to grace with manners, as you should well know," she replied quickly, walking off determinedly, but unsuccessfully losing the blond.

"No, actually, I don't know why you decided I wasn't enough, Granger. It isn't as if anything changed," he said coldly, using his height advantage to easily keep up with her quick steps.

"I _told _you, Malfoy, I outgrew that lifestyle years ago. I didn't know what the hell I was dealing with, and things are completely better now," she told him smugly. His temper snapped, as he pulled her by the wrist into a corner.

"What the fuck is your problem, Granger?" he seethed, glaring into her eyes. She was horribly aware of his warm breath on her face, growing more uncomfortable as the seconds wore on. "I was under the pretense that we were both mature adults, and that we would be able to carry on a civilized conversation."

"You have never, and _will never _be a 'mature adult', Malfoy. Clearly I used to think differently of you, but I was bloody 19," she hissed. "And you, I suppose, still a Death Eater?" She stared with unconcealed disgust at his forearm, hidden by his robes.

"Once... always, Granger. You _know_ that, so don't give me that shit," he muttered, finally letting go of her hand, which she quickly withdrew.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked with mild curiosity. "You vanished off the wizarding map for five whole years, and _now_ you choose to reappear?"

"I was looking for you, if you must know," he replied conversationally. "I got quite bored of the world without your constant wit."

"How obvious is it that you're being sarcastic, Malfoy?"

"I didn't think it was that obvious. I suppose you know me too well," he admitted in defeat.

"Don't flatter yourself. I know nothing about you," she said, deciding the conversation was finished and walking away.

"Granger!" he shouted, and she was forced to turn back, eyebrow raised. "It's been a long time. Let me buy you a drink, at least."

* * *

"Two firewhiskeys," Draco said dismissively to the waitress who was eyeing the blond with obvious lust. Hermione snorted; she hadn't a clue what she was getting into. 

Clearing her throat, Hermione shot him a glare. "I'll have a coffee," she said clearly, shooting a challenging look into his silver eyes, which he readily returned. "Black."

"So," Draco began as the girl walked off. "What's new with you?"

Hermione stared at him in pure disbelief, expecting perhaps an explanation. Not a simple greeting.

"I've been under a desperate attempt to find some semblance in my life again. You threw me off the edge, you know," she said darkly. "Clearly you haven't changed _at all._"

"On the contrary, you were the one that changed. I believe I've remained the same bastard I was in seventh year. It seems now that you just choose to notice it," he explained.

"Look Malfoy, as quaint as this is, I just..." she began, searching for an excuse to leave.

"We just ordered," he stated, watching as she glanced impatiently at her watch. "You're engaged?" he asked in shock.

Hermione flushed as she looked back at her hand, seeing the bright ring that, until half an hour previous, had been everything on her mind.

"Yes, I am," she retorted.

"Who?" he questioned softly, transfixed with the ring on her finger.

"Ron," she said in a small voice, refusing to meet his eyes. He took a double take, blinking as he stared in wonder.

"You're marrying Weasel? A bit facetious for you, don't you think?" he asked, smirking. "So what was that episode all about? If you were planning on going back to who you were before all this began."

She sighed, taking a deep breath. "Though I know full well that I have no obligation to explain myself to you, I'll do it to ease your mind, and mine, I suppose. When I was seventeen, I was young, gullible... I was foolish. I was like any young girl;I loved the ideas of excitement, thrill, incredible romance..." she drifted off and he laughed softly. "I suppose it was the danger of it all. He was very... persuasive with his words, and then there was you of course. I was ready to burst with the expectations and so I felt the need to rebel. I assume it was unexpected?" She smirked and he grinned.

"As hell. You were the last person in Europe we imagined to cross over. Though I do agree, the Dark Lord can convince anyone if he tries. I suppose he had you envision this life of danger and romance." Hermione nodded.

"As well, it isn't something I look back on altogether too fondly," she continued, sighing. "I don't know what really made me agree to it."

"I for one don't regret your choice, however," he became serious, staring into her chocolate eyes. "There's no question that I'd be dead right now and unable to be sharing this drink with you, had you not."

"That's what threw me off, actually. Obviously you know that the Dark Lord sought me out and offered me solace amongst his ranks. If I had denied, I most likely would have been killed, but the light side would have easily defeated the dark. They were becoming far too strong, and everyone knew it," she paused, taking a thoughtful sip of her coffee.

"Which was why you, being the delicious little spy that you were," the blond muttered with a smirk, "was so excellent at that time."

She sobered, remembering momentarily with whom she was conversing.

"Look Malfoy, you know the situation as well as I do," she began, lowering her volume to merely above a whisper. "Well at least, I assume you do, after vanishing for five years. There have been six other attacks from either side since the surprise attack in seventh year. The one that I, well... warned you of. Obviously this won't be ending anytime soon, and I'm tired as hell of being on constant guard," she shot him a glare, as if his dark support kept her awake at night.

"Precisely, Hermione," he whispered, leaning towards her, and she fought back the shiver threatening to traverse her spine at the sound of her name from his lips. "Which brings me to the real reason why I've left hiding to seek you out," he continued professionally, leaning back against the bench. Hermione exhaled heavily before she realized she had been holding a breath.

"Which is?" she asked impatiently. She had told Ron it would be a quick, ten minute shopping trip.

"I don't suppose there's any way to put this other than giving it to you straight," he pondered before sighing. "He wants you back."

"Absolutely not," she replied without a thought, though with considerably wider eyes. "I pulled out of this war after the death of Dumbledore, you _know _that. _He _knows that, Ron and Harry know that, _everyone _bloody knows that."

"Are you quite finished?" he asked as she ended her rant, seemingly bored. "I always enjoyed when you were angry," he muttered, smirking.

"Then you would have just _loved_ me when you abandoned me without warning," she replied darkly, frowning.

"You aren't going to let that go, are you? It wasn't exactly my choice, Granger. He _told _me to go into hiding, so I went. Simple as that. I wanted so badly to tell you, I swear," he whispered sincerely, holding her gaze.

"So why didn't he tell me?" she asked, unable to forgive him so easily.

"You didn't tell him why you were leaving, did you?" he asked suspiciously. "But he let you go anyway."

"I wasn't technically a Death Eater, Malfoy. He tried to stop me but there wasn't exactly much he could do," Hermione explained.

He stared long at her, as if determining what to do with her.

"Look, you want this bloody war over, come back and finish what you started," he said coldly, laying the ultimatum. Downing the remains of his whiskey in a single shot, he stood up. "Let's get out of here."

"You can't tell me to turn on my friends, Malfoy," she told him in horror.

"You had no reserves last time, did you?" he asked mockingly.

"Don't be a jackass, Malfoy. I know every side to you, and you know this is my least favorite."

"Why the hell would you want to marry Weasel, Granger?" he asked with open disgust, changing the subject.

"Because I'm a responsible adult, which you _aren't_. And I know Ron will make an excellent father," she added the last part softly, but he caught it anyway.

"Are you fucking pregnant, Granger?" he hissed, eyes narrowed.

"I was, Malfoy, and now I'm not. It's not difficult to understand," she answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Five years can do a lot, you know."

"Well, obviously," he said loudly. "I can't believe you. How old is it?"

"He's four and a half," she replied shortly.

"Didn't wait long after I was gone, did you? Or were you shagging Weasel before I even left?" he asked angrily.

"You don't know _shit _about my life Malfoy, and you forfeited that privilege when you were nineteen," she muttered, terrified to feel a tear forming.

"You know, you're acting like you're the only one hurt, Granger," he started shortly, leaving the restaurant, where the majority of the people were focused on the feuding pair.

Sighing, she followed him out of the building, unable to locate the taller, faster blond. Slowly she glanced around the alley, until she spotted him.

"Look, apparently I was wrong in expecting anything other than animosity between us after so long. So we'll file this one under my fault, and think about my proposition. I know you too well to imagine you'll forget about this encounter. If you want to find me, you know how," he muttered in her ear as he spun on his heel and walked away.


	2. Forgotten

I managed to get another chapter of this, while still finishing chapter 18 of Night and Day. This relieved my writer's block as I had hoped, and now I feel like I should continue it. I love reviews, especially for Night and Day, so if any of you have got some time, check it out. :)

I only own this particular plot, and nothing else.

* * *

"Hermione, there's a visitor for you," came the wizarding intercom in her office as she heard her assistant, Jen's, voice. Hermione raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

"Who is it?" she asked calmly, gathering a stack of papers.

"He won't say," Jen said, before hesitating, voice dropping. "Rather a fine young specimen, at least."

"Is he blond?" Hermione asked, sighing.

"Blond hair, grey eyes, medium build," Jen listed, as Hermione set the papers to the side. "Sharp features, full lips," her assistant continued.

"Enough, Jen!" Hermione cried, and the younger girl was instantly quiet. "Tell him to go away."

There was silence as Hermione sat tensely at her desk.

"He says it's urgent and that he needs to speak with you right now or he'll break down your door, Hermione," Jen explained and Hermione threw her head down in her arms.

"Fine, I'll see him for a minute," she said begrudgingly, defeated.

"Ah, Hermione, he says he's taking you to lunch, and won't accept your rejection," Jen's voice once more broke the silence.

"He can bloody well bite himself in the arse if that's how he's going to be about it. I'm busy," she replied firmly.

"I'll take care of it, Hermione," Jen brushed it off easily. "Don't be so uptight. I haven't seen you get away for yourself in ages."

"This won't be for me, trust me. Tell him he's got half an hour," she said in a small voice, setting her quill aside, throwing on her coat and departing the room.

Malfoy was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed and smirk planted firmly on his lips. He looked groomed to perfection as usual, and Hermione winced as both the practical and the fantastical sides of her mind screamed how good he was looking.

"Alright, how in the bloody hell did you find me?" Hermione muttered as she paced to the door, Draco propelling himself off of the wall to follow her out of the complex.

"You do realize you're listed in the Wizarding pages, Granger," he said, seemingly bored as she scowled at him.

"Under the sole intention of business, and not to be stalked by men who have nothing better to do that to go out of their way trying to get something to happen that _never will_," she explained in a breath, exasperated.

"I did consider going to your flat, but I have no intention of ever seeing Weasley again," he shot back.

"And what makes you assume I'm living with Ron already?" she asked, eyebrow raised. He scoffed.

"Please Granger, you're bloody engaged. As sick as it makes me, I realize you probably have no discretion towards his perverse fantasies," Draco explained, sneering.

"Don't talk about my sex life, Malfoy, it's disturbing," she sighed, glancing down the unfamiliar street they were on.

"It _is _disturbing, I agree. Especially since you'd obviously rather fuck the Weasel than me," he smirked.

"If you're going to be crude, I have a ton of paperwork at my office waiting to be done," she suggested, glancing warily at him.

"I won't be crude," he said, glaring at the brunette. He pulled open the door to a rather classy restaurant, pushing her gently into the doorway, as she was still watching the other side of the street.

"Malfoy, we aren't dressed nearly nice enough to eat in a place like this," she reminded him, gauging his reaction. His eyes were wide, however, and he made no notice of having heard her at all. She followed his line of vision to a blonde woman with a rather fake smile, and a rather tight dress, as she took a couple's order.

Her gaze spun across the restaurant and Draco quickly tossed an arm around Hermione's shoulders, leaning close to her ear.

"Please co-operate for _one _minute, Granger," he muttered in her ear, before pulling away and waving at the blond woman as she noticed him.

"Hey Pans," he called across the entrance, as Hermione gaped in recognition.

"Parkinson?" she asked incredulously.

"It's called surgery, and a lot of it," he whispered once more and Hermione snorted, shooting him a smirk as she took a step closer to him, making herself comfortable in his arms. He gave her a surprised glance before grimacing as he noticed the old Slytherin making her way to the pair.

"I always hated that fucking bitch," Hermione said quietly and he laughed out loud.

"Hi Draco!" Pansy said loudly as she reached him.

"Hello, Pansy," he said dully, re-adjusting his grip on Hermione. Pansy shot a cold glance at Hermione, looking quite disinterested before attempting to make small conversation with Draco.

The posh looking man at the entrance turned to Hermione, smirking at her as if she was entirely below him.

"Do you have a reservation, Miss?" He asked, as if he already knew the answer. Hermione shrugged, elbowing Draco hard in the ribs to get his attention. The host raised an eyebrow, but turned his gaze to the blond.

"Should be under Malfoy," he said calmly, and the man carelessly flipped through his book. After wasting several minutes attempting to look elite, he turned back to the original page and allowed them to enter.

After they had been seated, Hermione looked nervously around the restaurant.

"This is too awkward... it's a Tuesday afternoon, Malfoy. Anyway, may I ask _why _you brought me away from work to bring me here?" She asked, taking a sip of her water.

"It's been a week and a half, Granger, and you haven't told me anything yet. This is unlike you. It makes me wonder if you've given my suggestion any thought whatsoever," he sighed.

"Of course I bloody thought about it, Malfoy. I can't get it out of my mind, and I figured by ignoring you, it might leave me alone," she reasoned.

"Let me explain something. He _mentioned _the idea, but didn't actually send me for you. I made that decision on my own," he muttered earnestly, watching her brown eyes.

"_Why _would you do that?" she asked.

"That doesn't matter," he said quietly. "What does matter is that both sides in this war are evenly matched. If you don't accept my offer then I'll assume you've decided to either stay in your blind ignorance, or else retreat back to the Order. Either way I can find the upper hand, and this war will continue in vain. _Or_, you can consider my preposition, come back to the side you were on before you fell out, and we can take them by surprise and win this thing," he explained.

"Draco, I–" she began, but he cut her off.

"I wasn't finished," he said shortly. "I know under the circumstances there's almost no way you'll say yes, but please tell me you'll think about it. If for nothing more than old time's sake."

"I just don't know," she said unsurely. "You're asking me to betray my best friend, and fiancee, and almost everyone else I know."

"Do you love him?" he asked simply and Hermione looked taken aback.

"Of course I do, we're getting married, Malfoy," she said coldly.

"I mean, _love_, Granger. That _spark_."

"You mean the spark I had with you?" she asked timidly. "No, I don't love him like that."

"Then don't marry him," he whispered, eyes unblocked. "It tears me up knowing that I spent 5 years unable to get over you, and you're engaged."

"You think it was easy for me to move on, Malfoy?" she asked, quite loudly. "I gave myself to you in every way imaginable, and you vanished. I had already mapped everything out, I wanted to spend my entire _life _with you."

He blinked at her open admission, as she avoided his gaze.

"So what the hell are we doing here?" he asked under his breath, leaned forward. "No one will ever take my heart like you did, after unlocking it for the first time. Why not try again?" he swallowed, staring genuinely into her eyes.

"We've just grown apart, Malfoy. I'm a _parent_ for Merlin's sake; I'm about to be _married_. It's a different life than I wanted at nineteen, but it's what's been dealt to me," she said harshly. "I don't want Danny exposed to the Dark Side anymore than he needs to be, and if that means the war goes a bit longer, then so be it."

"Hermione, tell me you don't love me," he said simply. She chuckled darkly.

"You'd think it could be that easy... Draco, I spent three and a half years waiting for you, determined you'd come back for me. I didn't even _look _at another man because I was still so bloody in love. I tried to convince myself I didn't care... you were the same damn Slytherin you were in school, and that it was all fake. Harry noticed how depressed I was, and suggested Ron take me to dinner. And I didn't give a fuck what happened if you were gone," she whispered, on the verge of tears.

"So it's too late, is it?" he asked quietly, taking a swig of his whiskey. His eyes widened as he noticed her error.

"Three and a half years, did you say?" he asked, mentally calculating in his mind. Hermione froze in horror as she watched him reach a conclusion. "Merlin," he stated and Hermione shut her eyes tight. "He's mine, isn't he?" he asked in a hollow tone.

She nodded miserably. "I was going to verify that I was pregnant and then tell you. But by the time I was positive, you were gone."

"What did Potter and Weasley say?" he asked, as if just thinking of it for the first time.

"They wouldn't speak with me for a month when I said I didn't know who the father was. They assumed I ran off and got myself pregnant by the first man I saw, and had "betrayed myself." They never knew about you, and still haven't a clue."

"What does he look like?" Draco asked, sincerely interested.

"Like you," she admitted, grinning. "Blond hair, grey eyes. Constantly up to mischief."

He grinned back. "Why didn't you tell me the last time I saw you?" he asked.

"Because," she sighed. "I knew you were still a Death Eater, and _don't _want him exposed. I knew you'd want to be involved."

"You have no right to keep him from me," Draco muttered darkly, glaring at her. "And there's no way in hell I'm going to allow a Weasley to be the father to a Malfoy."

"That's good then, since he's a Granger. You don't know the first thing about him, I'd hardly call him _your _son."

"That isn't my fault. Had I known, I would have defied everything to go back to you, if it meant my life," he said stubbornly. "The whole time when I was the inside correspondent for the dark, I thought if I did my best, the war would end and I could get back to you."

Swallowing heavily, Hermione glanced at her watch.

"Draco, I told Jen I'd be back in half an hour, over an hour ago," she said softly, overwhelmed by thoughts.

He nodded, silver eyes glazed over in disappointment. "Promise me you'll allow me to meet him someday," he said shortly.

"You're his father, I can't keep you away," she replied. He showed no sign of reaction, instead counted out a stack of coins for the bill.

"I realize it won't change anything, but..." he said quietly and she almost had to strain to hear. "I'm still here for you, if things don't work out."

"I know, it's just..." she trailed off, eyes watering once more.

"I understand, as much as I don't like it," he said faintly, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "You should get back to your work."

When Hermione opened the door to her office, feeling empty and red-eyed, Jen immediately perked up.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked.

"No, I didn't," Hermione said, bitterly. She sighed, slouching down into the other chair by the front desk. "How come the ones we love never turn hideous and mean? Life's too bloody unfair," she muttered.


	3. Reminiscent

Here's a third chapter to this, as I'm still struggling to find some semblance to the current chapter of Night and Day. It's coming to a close, and I don't want to rush it, but don't particularly want to drag it out, either.

I only own the plotline, and Danny, but I simply adore reviews.

* * *

The door to the flat swung open and Hermione set down her book, carefully marking her page. She watched as Ron entered the room, distracted by the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ held tight in his hands. Kicking the door shut, he walked to the sitting room before collapsing down into an armchair. He finished the article he was reading and tossed the paper to the table, sighing.

He learned forward, noticing Hermione for the first time as she regarded him with raised eyebrows.

"Hello," he said cheerfully, with an undertone that stated it had been a long day.

"Hey Ron," Hermione replied, glancing at the paper. "Anything interesting?"

"You won't believe it," Ron said, tossing the paper to her.

She paled instantly as the Headline became visible to her, trying to keep nonchalant.

_'Malfoy's Sudden Return'_

She swallowed hard as she casually skimmed the article, feeling nerves well in the pit of her stomach. It was an agonizing read, complete with accusations and far-fetched but trivial propositions; typical with the _Prophet. _What threw Hermione off the most was that no one seemed to know why he was back, or in fact, why he had left in the first place.

She tore her eyes away from the last sentence, groaning slightly as she remembered lunch that day.

Ron however interpreted her groan as one of suppressed hatred, and nodded.

"Seemed impossible, eh?" he asked, incredulous. "I honestly thought we were rid of him. Thought the bloody bastard had tossed himself over a cliff or something."

"That's a bit extreme, wouldn't you think, Ron? He hasn't bothered you in five years," Hermione snapped in defense before she could catch herself. "I'm sorry, Ron, I'm just as thrown by this as you are."

"I understand completely," Ron empathized and Hermione felt a spasm of irritation. "Why d'you reckon he's back? Figure it has something to do with You-Know-Who?"

"Ron, I..." Hermione trailed off as a thought hit her. He was planning dark activity, she already knew that much. For a split second her mind composed a plan to inform Ron of what she knew, so he could report to the superiors of the Order. The war could finally be over. A jolt of pain shot through her heart as the treacherous thoughts quickly vanished. She had promised herself she would stay out of the war.

"Ron, I wager it has nothing to do with the war. There was never any solid evidence to prove he was involved in dark activity to begin with. It may have just been an extended holiday; you know the Malfoy's with their money."

"But it _could_ just as easily be that he's planning something, Hermione! We should act before it's too late. The Order is unstable enough as it is," Ron continued, caught up in his thoughts. "I wonder if Harry's seen the paper yet. I should go owl him."

"You're blowing this out of proportion," Hermione reasoned as he left the room. He reversed in his tracks and walked back towards her.

"You're right, I'm sure it's nothing," he sighed. He looked around the room, as if for the first time, before turning his urgent gaze to Hermione. "Where's Dan?"

"Didn't I tell you? He had a play-date with Dean and Lavender's daughter today. He's been over there all day," Hermione explained, picking up her book once more.

"You think he's safe there, Herms?" Ron asked, and she winced at the outdated nickname. "Malfoy could easily go after him."

"Ron, Malfoy has no interest in Danny whatsoever, I'm sure. He probably doesn't even know I _have_ a son," she crossed her fingers, hidden in the corner of the seat so Ron couldn't see.

"I'm just trying to take precautions!" Ron exclaimed, standing once more. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I had a big lunch, I'm not too hungry yet," Hermione replied, blinking at the rapid subject change.

"Did you go out for lunch with Jen?" Ron asked from the doorway, mildly interested.

"Yep, we went to that new place in London," she muttered, crossing her fingers once more. "They had good food."

"Good to hear. I think I'll get changed," Ron said, making to leave the room once more. Hermione stood on a whim and crossed the room, finding herself next to the taller redhead.

"Ron, I'm going to go for a walk. I think I need to get some fresh air. Lav said she'd drop off Danny after dinner, so try not to go too far," she stated lightly, and he nodded in response before turning away. She frowned at his lack of concern, but left the flat silently.

As she strolled the streets of London, Hermione found herself further into unknown territory, as the sky darkened and the wind began to pick up. She tried to determine any one reason why her home had become so utterly stifling so suddenly.

Ron hadn't kissed her goodbye. He hadn't even bloody_ touched _her. Ron had never been an overly sweet and sincere type of person, but she had thought the same about Malfoy years ago. And she was engaged to the man, for Merlin's sake.

Malfoy. It was all his fault. His fault she felt uncomfortable with Ron, his fault she had to sit and listen to the redhead's rants without being able to jump forward and spill everything she knew. As tempting as the thought had been for those mere seconds, she was reluctant to admit that he still held a significant portion of her heart. Rather, he had that portion wound tightly in his claws, unable to break free. The bastard.

And now she was lost. Great. Daniel would be back at the flat by now, probably warm and eating dinner, while she strolled further into the heart of London, tentatively watching the grey clouds that rolled past overhead. The streets were lined with dingy pubs, sketchy night spots, and homeless Muggles. She looked back, unable to find the street she had turned off of. A flickering thought of apparating home passed her mind, but it would be far too risky without knowing which way she intended to go from where she was.

She sighed in frustration, trying to make her way back down the street. With a great clap of thunder, the clouds opened up and began pouring on her.

"When did my life get so bloody complicated," she grumbled to herself, continuing to walk in the direction she thought would be home.

"I think it was somewhere around the middle of seventh year, it was a Tuesday evening," a familiar silky voice replied in her ear, and she jumped in shock, turning to the source of her answer.

"Oh, it's you," she said dully, catching sight of shockingly blond hair. "Stalking me now, are you?

"I am not," he said stubbornly, falling into step with her. "This area of London happens to be much closer to where I'm staying than where you live."

"Alright, so tell me where I am so I can get the hell out of here," she requested, submitting to let him join her.

"Not quite yet," he responded without missing a beat. "I want to know what you're doing out here in the first place. This isn't a decent area for innocent young witches like yourself." She didn't have to look at him to see the smirk.

"I was just getting some air. I'm lost, okay?" she admitted, flushing. "And I'm cold, and wet, and regretting every minute of this excursion!"

"Tell me, what was the reason for this 'excursion' in the first place then?" He asked, almost mockingly.

"I haven't the slightest. Well, I do." When she didn't continue, the blond gestured for her to go on, receiving a dirty look. "You were in the paper, and Ron went into his typical stressing mode, every time something relating to the dark side occurs. He was positive you're out to stir up the Order."

"What did you say?" Draco asked, lips twitching.

"I defended your bloody arse, and told him I thought it was nothing. I'd suggest you be grateful, Malfoy. Had I not, you'd have a pack of aurors on your tail faster than you can fly."

"You wouldn't have. In your own way, you're too much of a coward to turn me in. You miss me," he said smugly, and she looked at him fully for the first time. Merlin, he was gorgeous; the looks he had grown into at only sixteen. His features still sharp, blond hair still impeccably groomed, minus the gel he had lost at fourteen. His eyes had changed, however.

Back at Hogwarts, his eyes had been cold, displaying permanent malice, hatred, superiority. They still glowed the same unnatural shade of silver, though devoid of any emotion. The thoughts that Hermione had taught him to show years ago had been long forgotten. The thought sent a pang of regret and longing through her.

"Of course I miss you," she said absently. "You taught me more about life than I'd ever willingly admit." A wicked gleam entered her eyes, and didn't go unnoticed by the blond, who watched her, intrigued. "And you were the best shag I've ever had."

She pulled ahead of him, leaving him to gape. She was shaking slightly, likely from the realization of how inappropriate this conversation was to be having with another man, while her fiancee sat at home. Possibly with her son. Whom had been conceived with the first man. She shook her head free of the confusing series of thoughts.

Perhaps it was from a lack of contact with her fiancee, that inspired the hushed talk with the other man in the first place. It hadn't just been tonight. Ron hadn't kissed her any way more than Harry would for several days now, and certainly hadn't been intimate with her in over a month. As much as she forced herself to believe that it wasn't sexual deprivation, she wasn't too sure.

He caught up to her once more, and Hermione found herself feeling almost guiltily defiant in her close proximity to Draco. It didn't help that he was so tempting in the first place.

"Were you serious?" he asked quietly after a moment.

"About the shagging thing?" she replied in wonder. He shook his head.

"I already knew that one. The other parts."

"I suppose I did if I said it. I wouldn't look too much into it," she said quietly.

"Denial won't work too well on me, Hermione. I like things to work my way, and I won't take this lying down. We both know the Weasel is entirely wrong for you, but you refuse to see through your fear of the unknown. I've made it perfectly clear what I still feel for you, and if your intimidation of the people I'm associated with is too strong, then it's your loss," he said quietly, frowning. "I'm offering you the life I know you wanted, that I know you still want. Weasley won't be good for you in the long run."

"Who are you to assume you know everything about me? You know the person I _used_ to be. Ron and Danny are my life now, Draco. I admit it's been nice seeing you again, but you pining over me will help no one." She was slightly angered as she spoke, angry at not only him but herself, for revealing her weaknesses to him.

"I know enough to tell you aren't happy with him." He sobered slightly. "Call it intuition, call it experience, but I can tell by your hesitance in his defense that he isn't living up to your expectations in some aspect." He absently brushed a hand over her hip, eyebrow raised as she jumped away from his touch.

"Perhaps in the bedroom? You shy away from contact as if it's unfamiliar," he muttered, fixing her with a puzzled glance.

"I've had enough of this," Hermione said stiffly, glaring coldly at him. "I had no intention of meeting you tonight, let alone be schooled by your weak assumptions regarding my life. Are you going to tell me where I am or not?"

He stared at her, looking unimpressed. "I had believed that you were across the street from your flat. I didn't think you'd want to walk all the way back alone in the storm, although I suppose the sun is out here."

Hermione looked behind her, feeling somewhat sheepish. There indeed was her flat. As she watched, her old school friend Lavender apparated onto the sidewalk, holding the hand of a young blond boy. Hermione hurried across the street, forgetting temporarily that Draco was still there.

"Hey Hermione," Lavender smiled. "Sorry we were held up; those two can practically glue themselves together when they want to."

"That's fine, as long as they had a good time," Hermione replied, smiling as well. Lavender waved before disapparating, and Hermione glanced back across the street, catching Draco's gaze. His expression was cold and calculating, before he tore his eyes away from her, to her son.

"Danny, there's someone I want you to meet," Hermione said quietly, and he nodded, following her across the street. "This is an old friend of mine from school, Draco Malfoy."

Draco shot her a glare as she introduced him as a friend, which she readily returned.

"Hi!" Daniel said to the taller blond, who was still blinking in shock. His lips slowly curved into a half smile at the boy.

"Nice to meet you," he said, and the boy smiled wide.

"Danny, run inside and let Ron know what you want for dinner," Hermione asked softly, watching as he ran across the street into the flat.

Draco was speechless as he watched the door close, surprised that Hermione would actually allow him to meet his son. Albeit it was momentary, but it had happened nonetheless.

"I promised, didn't I? And you helped me get home anyway," she said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for prying," Draco said slowly, watching her reaction. "I just wanted to find some way to be involved in your life again."

"I suppose if you drop the recruitment bit, and kept the dark arts to the barest minimum around me, I wouldn't mind if you came to visit me at the office someday," she replied shyly. "And I _did _mean what I said about missing you these years." Draco smirked, eyes lit up.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said in a low voice, meeting her gaze. "As long as I don't have to fight my way past that girl again."

Hermione laughed. "Jen's just a bit off. She's a fine girl, really–" She was cut off as Draco's eyes widened, then narrowed in disgust, and she glanced back to see Ron stepping out the door. She turned back in time to see Draco disapparate right as Ron's gaze turned to her.

"Herms?" he asked. "Dan said you were talking to a man outside. You're soaked, come inside."

Hermione glanced down at her clothes, seeing that they were still wet from the storm, even though it hadn't lasted long. She performed a quick spell that dried her, before looking back to the spot where Draco had stood, and walked into the flat.

"Who were you talking to?" Ron asked as Hermione took a seat at the table.

"Oh, just Joseph, from down the street. He said he knew someone who'd be able to fix that old television you bought from that Muggle yard sale," she lied easily. Seeing Danny open his mouth to comment, she put a finger to her lips giving him a mischievous grin. Understanding, he smiled back conspiratorially, and Hermione noticed the definite similarities to his father, in the way his grey eyes were full of trouble.

Glancing between the pair, Ron was none the wiser.


	4. Concocted

Alright, chapter 4 is up... I'm feeling subdued so I'll just let you read the chapter. (And review :P)

I own only the plot, if that. (What'd you all think of HBP? Loved it. )

* * *

"Hermione, that guy's back," Jen informed her, and the brunette fought back a smile.

"You can send him in, Jen," she replied formally, quickly shoving a few stray stacks of paper into a drawer to appear as if there was some sort of semblance to her office. The door opened as the drawer slid shut, and she jerked her head up.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," she greeted casually, unable to meet his gaze as she dug through a cabinet behind the desk.

"Afternoon, _Miss _Granger," he said in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. He immediately took a seat at the seat on the other side of her desk and began leafing through her items.

"Will you put that back?" she asked, as he pulled out an expensive eagle feather quill, scribbling nonsense onto a blank sheet of parchment. "Now, Malfoy, is there any particular reason to this visit? Or were you just intending to fiddle around with my office supplies?"

"I told you I'd stop by, and I did. What time are you off?" he asked casually, replacing the quill.

"Not for another five hours," she shot, and he raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat.

"Aren't you horrifically bored?" he asked, gazing at her. "What exactly is it that you do?"

She sighed. "I'm a private accountant, for businesses in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and the like."

"That sounds stimulating, Granger," he replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It's a temporary situation, Malfoy. It allows me flexible hours, as I _do_ have a son at home. Until I can find something better to do, I'll be doing this. Besides, I always had a certain flair for arithmancy," she added, and he shook his head.

"That you did. You got 812 percent on the seventh year arithmancy NEWT, if I recall correctly," he stated, trying to appear interested.

"Good memory," she joked. "Another bonus; no one expects an accountant to involve herself in the war."

He stared at her in disbelief. "You're honestly saying you picked the dullest job that could possibly _exist_ just so you wouldn't have to ally yourself with anyone? So you can sit in your hideously white office and hide from the monsters?"

"I'm 24 with a son who's almost five, Malfoy," she stated blandly. "I didn't have too much of a choice."

"Alright, you're 24, you have the dullest job ever, and you're about to marry the dullest _man_ in England. What I want to know is, what happened to you?" he asked, and Hermione was thrown by his sincerity.

"A lot's happened to me, and most of it wasn't planned," she replied shortly.

"You used to be so edgy," he shot back at her. "You were a spy in the most monumental battle of all wizarding times. Now you're a bloody accountant." Hearing the situation from his lips made it all seem worse than she had originally thought. She glanced away, flushing slightly.

"Are you quite finished, Malfoy?" she asked grudgingly, glancing at him.

"You want me to go? I'm gone," he replied coldly, making to stand.

"I didn't mean for you to leave," she scoffed. "I'm tired, and it's been a long day is all."

He sat back down, watching her silently.

"Why are you tired?" he asked suddenly.

"Because I got hardly any sleep last night, Malfoy," she explained to him as one telling a small child why birds had wings.

"Guess I was wrong about Weasley," he muttered, smirking.

"No, you idiot," she replied haughtily. "I didn't sleep because you were _right _about it," she admitted, blushing. "I don't know if I'm doing something wrong, but he won't even touch me."

"Granger, I can assure you, he'd have to be either homosexual or insane not to want you," Draco said quietly, running a finger along her jaw. She gave him a light grin, before it faded into a frown.

"You can't just keep doing this," she muttered angrily, pulling away from his touch. "You do and say things that you know I'll like to get me to join you again."

"Actually, it was more about getting you away from Weasley," he stated, eyebrows raised. "At this point I can't really give a fuck what's going on with the war. I've got a new target." He smirked, silver eyes alight, as she glared at him.

"Don't treat me like an insignificant object that you can win, Malfoy. You can buy anything else, but not me," she said darkly.

"But I can win you from Weasley," he said seriously, catching her wary gaze. "Once I hit the right angle, your strength will crumble."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because I know you still have feelings for me," he said quietly, meeting her eyes. "You wouldn't have waited for over three years if you didn't care. You wouldn't have invited me here _today_ if you didn't care."

"Just because it's been five years and I'm barely over you doesn't mean you can control me," she said softly, because he had leaned across the desk towards her, and she could feel the trail of his hot breath across her face.

"I never said I _wanted _to control you," he whispered to her lips before leaning back. "And about your Weasel situation," he continued loudly. "You want him to show attention to you, remind him that you aren't his yet." An evil smirk spread over his features as Hermione could see his mind at work. "Make him work to keep _you _interested."

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"Hermione, a man doesn't want to feel like everything's just been handed to him on a silver platter. He wants a challenge, he needs to work for what he wants. Well," he paused, thoughtful. "I'm not too sure about the Weasel. He might prefer the platter, as it's less work."

Hermione sighed. "Continue, Malfoy."

"There's no need for anything drastic, but make sure he notices that you have needs as well. Casually drop into the conversation over dinner that there's a hot new intern at the office, or mention some chap who helped you with the groceries."

"We don't have interns here, Malfoy," she replied tonelessly.

"Does he know that?" he asked, and Hermione shook her head sedately. He gave a nod, proving his point.

"Or," his eyes lit up. "Even better; you can tell him that you saw me in Diagon Alley, and that I've become even more breathtakingly attractive since you've seen me last, and that your mind had instantly been sent into wild fantasies of having me in your bed."

She stared in disbelief, a look bordering on confusion and amusement playing over her features.

"I'm not about to tell my fiancee that I fancy, not to mention, had heated fantasies about his best friend's enemy, Draco."

"You can leave the bit about the fantasies out if you really want. But tell him you saw me, it'll send him into snarling fits of jealousy, and he'll be incredibly overprotective," he reasoned, and Hermione had a sudden mental image of Ron breathing fire, holding her back from Draco.

"I'm not too sure I want to make him jealous," she said unsurely.

"Like I said, I don't know much about how Weasley's mind works, but often the way to make a man admit how much he cares is by waving your temptation in his face. If he sees you aren't one hundred percent interested, he might have to step up the game. Or in this case, the sex drive," he finished with a smirk.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, watching his reaction closely. He thought for a moment, silver eyes fogged over.

"Because I just can't stop imagining the expression on his face when you tell him you find me attractive," he said vainly.

"_If _I even say that," she reminded him.

"Hermione, in my version you're telling him about the fantasies too. Don't ruin it," he quipped. "As well, in one of the versions you're telling him about the _fulfillment_ of them." She flushed lightly, looking away.

"I'll consider it," she said shortly, wondering if she actually would comment on the subject.

"Good," he grinned. "Let me know how it turns out. If you don't get any action tonight, you can blame me. Or you can owl me if you're that anxious, seeing as I have no plans, and you get a conveniently placed lunch break."

"I won't sleep with you," she muttered, finding humour in the situation at that point.

"We'll see. How long's it been?" he asked nervously, as if afraid of the answer.

"Five weeks tomorrow," she sighed and his eyes widened in horror.

"Wow. How are you coping?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Malfoy, I don't get my kicks in life from gardening," she stated darkly, and he laughed. "How would you be coping?"

"I wouldn't be," he replied lightly. "Of course, if you're that broken up about it, my offer stands." He leaned forward once more, and Hermione cursed her heartbeat as it subconsciously sped up. "I _have _been told I was the best shag a certain witch has ever had." He shot her a suggestive grin and her stomach tossed around inside of her.

Hermione froze as he reached a hand out, entwining it in her curly hair thoughtfully. His hand slid down to cup her neck, his thumb tracing her cheekbones, as her eyes unwillingly fell shut at the newly familiar contact. Her head pitched forward without authorization, so that she could feel the closeness of his lips.

As she was about to surrender her remaining will to the sudden desire to close the space between them, the intercom dinged and she pulled away quickly, eyes wide.

"Hermione, the representative from Gladrags is here," Jen said cheerily, and Hermione found herself letting out a breath, as she eyed Draco warily.

"You should go," she said softly, jerking her eyes away. He simply nodded, standing from his seat. "I'll owl you if... yeah," she continued, staring at the floor as he watched her.

"I'm sorry," he tried, though she still refused to meet his eyes. "That was inappropriate."

"It was my fault," she assured him, turning to the door. "I'll talk to you another time, I have a meeting."

She turned to look at him, giving him a quick smile before he disapparated. Her nerves were shot entirely as she leaned back in her seat once more, eyes shut lightly until the door opened, when she opened her eyes quickly and began an animated conversation with the young man in her office.

* * *

Hermione sat on the sofa, curled up with Ron that evening after Daniel had gone to sleep, feet tucked beneath herself. She rested her head on his shoulder, casually regarding the work he was doing for the Order. 

"Hermione, I'd really prefer it if you didn't do that while I'm working. These plans need to be finalized for the next meeting," Ron said distractedly, shrugging her off.

She leaned away, making sure to noticeably shift herself to the other side of the couch as she looked at him with a tired expression. A thought popped into her head and a light smile played across her lips.

"Hey Ron, guess who I saw today?" she asked loudly, turning to watch him once more.

"Who did you see," he replied, sighing.

"Malfoy," she stated in a low voice, and it had the desired effect. His eyes widened and focused on her, then suddenly filled with disgust.

"Why didn't you owl me right away, Hermione? We could have tracked the git down and stopped him before he did anything," he said with enthusiasm.

"Ron, he was just buying new robes, relax," she lied easily. "Besides, he isn't the same person he used to be back at Hogwarts. He's far more bearable now."

"You actually talked to him? Hermione, Malfoy doesn't have _conversations_, he spites, he insults, he doesn't speak properly," Ron patronized, and Hermione was indignant.

"You don't know what type of person he really is, Ron," she defended, eyes alight as she felt a strong determination to bother Ron a bit more. "As well as looks, he actually has quite a bit going for him."

"You're making me sick," Ron commented shortly, before returning to his work. "I'm going to forget that you just mentioned Draco Malfoy is good looking and go to bed. I'm tired, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Watching as he departed, Hermione felt a surge of anger run through her. The plan had failed horribly, and now Ron was angry with her. It would be another cold, lonely night indeed. Hermione sincerely wished she knew what had changed, but she also knew that if Ron wouldn't pay any attention to her, she knew a man who would.

Grabbing a scrap piece of parchment, she pulled out a quill and placed it to the paper.

_9:00 am, my office. Be there. _

_HG_

She scribbled the quick note, before sending it off with her owl. Entirely unsure what she was expecting, it was nice to know she had someone to talk to who actually knew her and cared about her. She loved Ron, but he didn't understand her at all. If nothing more, Draco could cheer her up.

* * *

At precisely 9:08 the next morning there was a loud crack and Hermione glanced up to see the blond standing there, brushing off invisible dust from the sleeve of his robes. 

"You're late," she said calmly, returning to her paperwork.

"I had to pretty myself up for you," he stated as if it were obvious.

"I should have assumed that, shouldn't I?" she asked, the beginnings of a smile forming.

"So? Has it been five weeks to the day, or has it been mere hours?" he asked, taking a seat.

"Draco, do I look like I'm floating on a sexual high right now, or does it look like I'm bored and disappointed?" she asked sharply, meeting his gaze, shocked to see humour.

"I'd go with the second one," he replied after a pause.

"The gentleman wins a prize," she said in mock sarcasm, pulling out her wand and transfiguring an empty ink well into a tinfoil swan.

"What is it?" he asked tentatively, and she shook her head, quickly vanishing it.

"So why exactly have I been summoned here?" he asked when she remained silent.

She looked up, giving him a cold stare. "I wanted you to know that your plan went miserably," she stated. "Not only did it fail to achieve the desired results, but Ron is currently avoiding me."

He shrugged. "It would have worked on me. Although I suppose Weasley is rather opposite to me. Maybe you should have told him you saw me and became instantly disgusted, thinking that I could never compare to your loving fiancee." He paused, before laughing aloud at the thought. "Granger, I never guaranteed you success."

"I almost thought it might have worked for a moment," she said quietly, avoiding his bright gaze.

His lips turned down into a frown as his expression became serious. "Hermione, have you considered that maybe..." he trailed off and she looked up at him. "Maybe, he isn't taking what you're offering because he's getting it elsewhere?"

His eyes were sincere, and looking into them, Hermione felt herself spiral off into thoughts of shock and worry. She hadn't considered the possibility that Ron could be cheating on her... he just didn't seem the type. Though as well, she hadn't expected Malfoy to return to her life so suddenly either.

"Do you think that?" she asked quickly, watching him closely.

"It was just a thought. I highly doubt it," he replied, though he didn't look unconcerned. "At least, he'd have to be pretty fucked in the head to do that. Listen, I've gotta go see a man about something, I'll come see you tomorrow." He shot her a quick grin and was gone before she could reply. Hermione was left gaping to ponder what he had said, and the nature of his sudden exit.


	5. Indecision

Hello! I'm feeling rather neutral towards this chapter right now, and haven't much to say, except that I don't own Harry Potter, and I'd adore you if you reviewed!

* * *

He hadn't returned the next day, as he'd promised. And neither was he back the day after that, or indeed, any day at all for the next week and a half. Hermione was beyond confused, more so for why he had stopped coming to see her than for what he was actually doing. As far as she had learned, he had no job, and there was nothing to suggest why he was so detained.

His parting words had stung her. She'd had limited luck with Ron as of late, though more than nothing. What scared her the most was that she was beginning to care less about what actually happened between them. So maybe that's what Ron was feeling as well, and he wasn't cheating on her after all. But did she really want Ron to be losing interest in her?

She was losing her mind to indecision, the thought randomly occurred to her as she was hastily scribbling out the numbers for Fortescue's ice cream, which had returned to business a couple years ago, though in a rather safe, Muggle neighbourhood. The unusual flavours had become an instant hit among the Muggle children.

She threw down her quill in frustration. She _wanted _him to visit her, she had realized. And instead, she had been holing herself up in her office once more, as she had done when she backed out of the war. If she wanted to see him, she had an owl, didn't she? With shaky hands she drew a piece of parchment from a stack, and picked up her quill once more.

She stared at the blank sheet as if it were watching her back, terrorized by his possible reaction. What would she even say? '_Hello, I was wondering if you were still coming to visit me, because even though I have a fiancee, I've found myself subconsciously missing you, and rather think I would like to take you up on your offer.' _

No, she doubted it. She meekly placed the parchment back where she found it, as she had done every day for the past week. There was a sharp knock on the door and she jumped. Jen _always _notified her if there was a visitor. She swung open the door, finding herself face to face with the blond who'd been plaguing her thoughts for the past while. He was frowning, instead of the usual smirk he wore, as he shoved past her and closed the door.

"How did you get in?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"I have my ways," he replied airily, walking over to her desk.

"Fortescue's still doing business?" he asked, incredulous. "Where is he? He sold the best ice cream."

"I'm under a strict contract not to tell you, Death Eater," she muttered out of irritation at herself, at Jen, and at him.

He looked taken aback. "That's quite a harsh accusation," he said quietly.

She walked over to him, grabbed his arm and rolled up his sleeve. "Not _that_ harsh," she replied, staring at the Dark Mark that had always transfixed her when they were together. She ran her fingers over it and he winced, grabbing her wrist with his other hand.

"Filthy hypocrite," he whispered coldly. "You were a _week_ away from your own Initiation when you pulled out."

"Good thing I came to my senses in time then," she muttered icily, meeting his gaze with an equal coldness.

"Yes, perfect timing, wasn't it? When you were the one who fucking told _us_ that the light would be off their guard that day."

"So the power got to me a bit, okay? I admit it," she said, flushing.

"I know it did," he was silent for a moment. "That was one of the things that turned me on the most about you."

She blinked, shocked at his rapid change in both mood and topic.

"So why are you here?" she asked, trying to ignore her stomach jumping around.

He let go of her wrist. "I'm here to share banter about the past, obviously. And to visit you," he said simply. "I remembered I told you I'd come back, and I never did. I felt bad."

"So what have you been doing?" she asked, hoping to pass off an image of nonchalance.

"I cannot tell you, for I am a Death Eater and you are not," he replied breezily, looking at one of the photographs on the wall.

"You know, if I ever got mad enough at you, I could easily turn you in," she said curiously.

"And I know you won't," he replied, turning to meet her eyes. "Not only because I know you couldn't stand to see me in Azkaban, but that I'd get awfully lonely and convince them to let you join me. Believe me Granger, any Death Eater activity at all, whether or not you've got the mark, can merit a life sentence these days."

She paled instantly at his words, sending him a panicked glance.

"The entire circle knew what you were up to, and betrayal is not taken lightly by Death Eaters. You'd be in a maximum security cell before sundown. On the bright side, the only way _you _could ever land in Azkaban is if someone revealed you, which is highly doubtful."

"Just stop, please," she breathed, watching him moving her office supplies around.

"I'm just going to come out with it, Granger. You and I both know that, had I returned to your life with the immediate intention of having you, you would've been mine by now. But since I can be an imbecile, the thought never occurred to me, and now I'm stuck trying to earn you back, and it's driving me _crazy_."

His eyes were full of desperation and seduction, and Hermione had to fight all that she was not to touch him, as he stopped walking, his body mere inches from her.

"Fuck everything. Fuck the war, fuck Weasley... Hermione," he said softly. "I don't want you back, I _need_ you back."

"Draco," she breathed.

"Don't," he said back, eyes closed. When he opened them, she was shocked to see he looked confused. "I know anything you have to say isn't what I want to hear, so please, don't talk."

Hermione stared, surprised at his open admittance of feelings, and the next thing she knew was his lips on hers, and she couldn't even remember initiating the kiss. He responded to the kiss hesitantly in case she was about to pull to her senses, but deepened the kiss when she didn't, plunging his tongue into her hot, willing mouth.

She moaned into the kiss, remembering what she had been missing for five years, digging her fingers deep into his loose, blond hair. The contact grew rough, and Hermione found her back to the door, eyes snapping open as she heard the chime that meant someone had walked into the building.

She withdrew from his mouth, biting hard on his earlobe as she leaned in. "You got a flat?" she whispered huskily and he nodded, pulling her back to his mouth as he apparated them both out of the office.

* * *

Hermione awoke several hours later in unfamiliar black sheets, arm draped across a smooth, pale chest. As her eyes slowly came into focus, her gaze fell onto the sleeping blond next to her. She bit her lip to keep from groaning aloud at the mere remembrance of the sensations he had made her feel. 

Taking in his mussed hair, and his slightly parted lips, Hermione pushed herself up to plant her lips firmly against his. His eyes fluttered open, and their silver filled with a wicked gleam as he responded to the pressure.

"Merlin," he muttered when she pulled away, resting her head on his chest. "How the fuck did I ever manage to leave that?"

"Were I a more selfish woman, I'd be asking you the same thing," she replied, lips quirked into a grin. "Draco, can we just go back five years?"

"I would in a fucking heartbeat," he said without hesitation, "if it weren't impossible."

Hermione frowned, glancing at the clock beside the bed.

"I've got to go in two hours," she confided, squirming slightly when she felt his tongue graze the shell of her ear.

"No you don't," he said instantly, "you can stay here with me."

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as his tongue dipped inside her ear, but she wrenched them open. "I have to go and close the shop, and then take Danny home."

"Why?" he asked, stopping his administrations. "Where's Dan?"

"He was going to go to Dean and Lavender's today, but they went to Paris, so I took him to the children's wing of the Diagon Alley Daycare offices," she explained, tousling his hair.

"You can't take him back to Weasley," he said, horrified. "Bring him here."

"Draco, I can't just leave Ron like that... I love him," she bit her lip.

"And do you routinely fuck guys other than the ones you love?" he asked harshly. "Tell me, Hermione, do you love Weasley more than me?" His eyes were open and honest, and they threw her off guard.

"I... don't know. Today... doesn't mean I'm about to run off and live in your flat, sacrificing everyone I know to be with you," she said. "It was merely you following up on the offer you made before."

His face fell. "So what, I was just a good release?" he asked, scathingly. "You used me?"

"I learned from the best," she scoffed. "Of course that wasn't all it was. But I can't have a future with you, like I can with Ron."

"Why the hell not?" he asked, standing up and slipping his boxers on. "You're afraid I won't be a good father? Hermione, he's _my_ son, not fucking _Weasley's_."

"I never said that," she muttered, reddening.

"Like hell. But you were thinking it," he glowered. He watched as she dressed, shielding herself from him with the sheets. His expression softened as he noticed her hastily wiping away a tear.

"Come here," he said quietly, looking down. He had thrown on jeans and a shirt, and Hermione felt a pang of regret as she grudgingly walked over, half suspecting him to hit her. So she was shocked when he took her head in his hands.

"Hermione," he said softly, meeting her level gaze. "If you leave now, and take the last shreds of my hope with you, there won't be anything left tying me down to London. I can't predict what I'll do, but I know I'll be out of the country by sun-down. You and I both know that I have pride enough to go through with my word. And if my word is that I won't be back, you can trust that I won't. I don't admit defeat easily, but losing to Weasley would be impossible to call anything else."

Unable to tear her eyes from him, she swallowed deeply. "Draco," she began, mind rampant with thought. Ron and Harry need you, just tell him it was nice seeing him again... You can't actually be considering his words... he's a bloody Death Eater!

"Draco, don't go," she choked out, pushing aside her logical side to let her heart out. "I don't know what I can do, but I can't lose you from my life again." He nodded, expression blank. "I'll just talk to Ron tonight, and sort this out."

"Do you honestly have to?" he scoffed, kissing her softly on the lips.

"Yes. I can't guarantee how he'll take it," she muttered thoughtfully, before turning her gaze to him. "But I still do have those two hours."

He smirked. "I think it's closer to an hour and three quarters," he informed her.

"Well," she said in a low voice, preoccupied by unbuttoning his shirt once more, "I'm sure I can stand to be a bit late."

* * *

"Herms, is that you?" Ron's voice called as she stepped into the flat later, as Daniel ran ahead to his room. "You're late," he said, appearing beside her. His tone held more excitement than disapproval. 

"Yeah, we had a busy day," she told him, feeling somehow awkward.

"Guess what?" he asked eagerly, pulling her into the living room.

"What?" She allowed herself to be maneuvered onto the couch.

"You're supposed to guess," Ron scolded, and she attempted an apologetic grin. "Anyway, I spoke to Harry today, and he told me he found the _perfect_ place to hold the wedding. I've invited him over for dinner to talk about it." He had a wide grin on his face, and Hermione felt rather dumbstruck.

"Ron, about that," she began quietly, avoiding his gaze. "I just think that maybe... We just..." His expression had dropped at her tone, and he was now staring at her worriedly, and she couldn't bring herself to say anything. "Ron, I think we should definitely check into it." She gave him a tiny smile and he kissed her quickly on the mouth.

"I'm just going to... change, Ron. Let me know if Harry gets here." She hurried off, feeling nauseous. How could she have possibly told Draco that she could leave Ron for him? They had been looking for a good location to hold the ceremony for months, and she couldn't just dump this on him. Besides, leaving Ron would mean leaving Harry, Ginny and everyone else as well.

Of course they wouldn't understand if she just decided to move out one day, and they never saw her again. She tried to imagine telling them about Draco, and knew there was no way it could work. Harry and Ron already loathed him, let alone having her run off with him.

Harry hadn't graduated at the top of his Auror training for nothing; his deductive skills had developed beyond anything she had seen, and he could easily trace Dan's obvious appearance to his father, and possibly back to seventh year, when Hermione had betrayed them all.

Betrayal. The mere thought made Hermione feel even sicker, and she had to sit down on her bed to stop the dizziness. What would Ron and Harry think if they ever found out what she had done? Hell, what would everyone think? Her clients would leave her, her friends would hate her. They might even have her thrown in Azkaban.

In the end, she knew she'd have to choose. On one hand, she could be with the one man who she had always loved, who made her feel extraordinary, who had power, wealth, intellect, beauty. She would still have Danny, and wouldn't have to worry about being burdened with any more secrets about his past. She would lose all of her friends. Her best friends, at least. She had grown to know some of the Slytherins quite well during her brief spell as a spy. Maybe her and Draco could just leave it all, and move some place exotic.

In the other situation, she could live a pure, happy life with her best friends, by Ron's side. She could keep everyone in her life, except for one person. And she would be left with guilt, and an emptiness that would constantly be eating away at her. Her love for Draco would never leave her, she knew this, but would she be able to overpower it just slightly? She would still have to live with her dark secrets.

She could always go away for a while, fake amnesia, and pretend her love for Draco was a recent acquisition... No. She wasn't about to get tangled up among any more lies. Unless... she could keep Draco a secret and pretend she was just too young to be married, and decide to go "traveling alone." Visiting Harry and Ron would still be possible, as well as being with Draco.

She didn't know that she'd have the strength to do that. Not to mention that Draco might not wish to abandon his life. She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on the door.

"Herms, Harry's here," came Ron's voice from the other side. Quickly she changed, taking a nervous glance at herself in the mirror as she swung open the door and walked downstairs.


	6. Revelation

Alright, there it is. Better late than never, I suppose. I did take a fanfiction break, but in the meantime I came up with something new, again, which I'm currently in love with. I'm done approximately a chapter, but plan to write more of it before I post. Check it out.

As well, I'd simply adore any reviews that you have time to send. They're my fuel. (I also plan to finish Night and Day one of these times.) I own nothing.

_

* * *

Hey, gorgeous._

Suppressing a smile, Hermione flipped over the parchment, searching for any continuation of the message. The note was written in an elegant script that she recognized from countless shared notes in seventh year.

Pulling out a quill, she positioned it below his greeting.

_Hey there. How's it going?_

Shrugging, she attached the note to the strong, black owl that had been waiting for a reply, eyeing her suspiciously.

The owl flew off and Hermione pulled out the file she needed to sort out, and was getting into the material, when the owl re-entered the window. She sighed as she set the parchment aside, untying the note once more.

_It's going fine. Meet me for lunch?_

Scrunching up her nose, Hermione scribbled a reply on the scrap.

_Wish I could. I've made Danny an appointment at Mungo's for 12:30._

Not minutes after she had sent off the owl once more, she looked up from her work at a loud 'crack', and her look of confusion was replaced with a smile.

"Hey Draco," she said softly, putting her work away once more.

"Hello," he said, sitting at her desk. "I figured it was altogether stupid to continue owling when I could just come see you." He smirked. "What's wrong with Dan?"

Hermione waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing really. He tried to swallow some building clay last night and it's having unusual side effects. They just have to reverse whatever spell was on the dough."

Draco nodded with a raised eyebrow. "Would you like some company?"

"I imagine that would go well," she said with a wry smile, glancing at her watch, leaving the office. "Ron said he would apparate Danny to the hospital, I just need to pick him up and take him back home."

"I have an idea," Draco suddenly exclaimed, silver eyes lit up. She gave him a wary glance. "Don't take him home, I'll take him shopping in Diagon Alley."

"I'm not leaving my son in your hands for a full afternoon, Draco," she replied immediately. "He hardly knows you, he'd be worried."

"So? He needs to get to know me better anyway. Do you honestly think I'd do anything bad to our son?" He questioned. "I _do _have a heart, Hermione."

"Oh Draco, you're breaking _my _heart, now," she mocked. "No."

"Think about it. I'll take care of Danny, and Weasel doesn't have to stay at home with him. He can do whatever the hell Weasel does in his spare time." He stopped dead, looking at her strangely. "You did talk to Weasley, didn't you?"

She froze. "Of course I talked to Ron yesterday." He glared at her disapprovingly. "Okay fine, I didn't get a chance to talk to him about _that_. Harry came over and he was too excited about the wedding for me to break anything to him. Today I will."

"No you won't," he shook his head. "This isn't a game, Hermione. You know how I feel, and you don't seem to care."

"Of course I care," she muttered darkly. "You think this is easy for me to make a decision like this? Did you expect that I'd just welcome you back into my life, saying, 'even though you utterly abandoned me to raise your son alone, I'll instantly forgive you?' Honestly, Malfoy."

"I'm not stupid, thank you. I had just assumed that maybe you'd realize how unfair this whole situation is. I want to be in your life, I want to know your son, but I _don't _want to be your man on the side."

"No?" she scoffed. "Here I was thinking that was your plan the whole time. If you care enough, you'll give me time to work this out."

"Fine," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "One thing though. If Danny remembers my name, I get to take him shopping. If he forgot, I'll admit defeat and let you take him home." He grinned.

"I give up, Draco. Go ahead, ask him." She found herself smiling back in spite of herself.

They finished the walk in silence, entering the hospital and going to the waiting area. When Danny was escorted out by a healer, his face lit up and he ran over to Hermione.

"Hi Mommy," he said excitedly. "I feel so much better. The clay made me feel like I was upside down, and it made me dizzy." He frowned, and Draco watched, transfixed, as Daniel turned his bright gaze to him. "Hi Draco!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who gaped, and he smirked. "Hey Danny. You remember me?"

"Yep, I did. I always remember Mommy's friends who I like."

Hermione sighed, resigning herself to the idea of allowing Draco free with her son around Diagon Alley.

"How would you like to go shopping with Draco this afternoon, Danny?" Hermione asked, shooting Draco an irritated glance.

"That would be fun! Can we look at brooms?" he asked, looking up at Draco hopefully.

"Of course," Draco replied, lips curved into a grin.

As much as Hermione tried to make herself believe that everything would be okay, and that Draco wouldn't purposely do anything to their son, she found that she didn't need to. They seemed to hit it off, and she almost felt proud. Draco glanced over at her, eyes almost apologetic.

"Have a good time," she said, grinning to ease his mind, then in an undertone, she added, "no unnecessary information."

"Don't worry about that," he muttered back.

"Bring him back by four," she said, watching Danny closely.

"Okay," he said, briefly taking her hand, before leading the boy from the hospital. Hermione watched them both until they were out of sight, furiously wiping away the tear that threatened to escape, apparating back to her office.

Draco had obviously realized how much this opportunity meant, and so he had Daniel safely back in Hermione's building by a quarter to four. She glanced up in shock as her door opened quietly, closing behind the tall blond wizard as he walked in, quickly sitting at her desk.

"So? How'd it go?" she asked, intrigued, lips curving upward.

He grinned. "Amazing. He wanted to go everywhere. He's quite a handful," he admitted and Hermione laughed.

"Don't I know it," she muttered, glad to hear that the trip was successful. "Tell me you didn't spoil him."

"By _spoil_ what exactly do you mean?" he asked, warily.

"Draco," she groaned, setting down her quill. "What did you buy him?"

"Just a few things. I said they were early birthday gifts," he said nonchalantly, raising his eyebrows innocently at her inquisitive gaze.

"It's not his birthday for another month, you know."

"I couldn't help it, alright? How would you feel if you were suddenly able to buy gifts for the son you never knew you had?"

"I suppose I would've gone overboard too," she confided, grinning. "As long as he doesn't grow to expect it."

"Course not, he–" Draco was cut off by the sound of the intercom.

"Hermione, two of the Weasleys are here. They have requested an impromptu meeting with you," Jen told her.

Hermione's eyes widened. She gave Draco a quick stare to keep him silent.

"Which two Weasleys, Jen?" she asked, eyes still trained on the blond.

"The two that look alike," Jen replied simply, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, just give me a moment, Jen." To Draco she muttered, "go, I'll talk to you later." He stood, mouthing the words 'thank you,' before he walked over and kissed her hard on the lips. Hermione was so shocked that she just stared back as he shot her a grin, before apparating away. Shaking her head free, she opened the door to the twin diabolical grins of Fred and George Weasley, who escorted themselves in.

"Good afternoon, Hermione," George said, taking a seat, as Fred followed suit.

"Hello," she replied suspiciously. The twins had no need for finance at the moment, she had just finished their books.

"Hermione, we were wondering, _why_ exactly Draco Malfoy was just walking around Diagon Alley with _your _son no more than an hour ago?" Fred asked, expression neutral. Her mouth dropped open in horror, and she realized she had absolutely no reasonable excuse.

"Yes, we were very interested actually," George continued, catching onto Hermione's expression. "And we presumed that if you were going to spill to anyone, that you wouldn't particularly want our dear younger brother to know."

"Are you blackmailing me?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

"Yes," Fred replied instantly.

"So what do you want?" she said quietly, afraid of the answer.

"We just want the truth, Hermione," George answered in a pseudo-exasperated tone. "You know we're absolute gossip mongrels, though with an exception to Rita Skeeter. We keep it to ourselves. Tell us why you freely gave up your son to Malfoy, and we'll be at peace, and no one else will know."

Hermione felt sick. There was literally nothing she could say to explain Danny in Draco's care. Other than the truth. But no way in hell would she trust Fred and George to keep quiet, especially with information with such a magnitude. Maybe if she persuaded them that it was an Azkaban sized truth they might understand... after all, they would never do her intentional harm.

"Malfoy is Danny's father," Hermione muttered very quickly before she could contemplate the situation further. The twins paused, struggling to make sense of her jumbled words, before they figured it out, leaping up.

"Hermione shacked up with Malfoy!" Fred exclaimed, slapping a high five with his twin.

"Score!" George replied, before the two both sat back down, grins wide. "So? Details, woman."

"I told the two of you what you wanted," she replied, flushed, feeling sick. "_Please_ never tell anyone."

"We've already sworn," Fred replied, somehow reassuringly. "We love knowing things no one else does."

"So was it a one time thing, or were you actually together?" George asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"We were together for about a year and a half, starting in seventh year," Hermione admitted, feeling she owed it to Danny at least not to pretend that his conception was merely a one-night stand.

The twins looked awed. "And Ron doesn't have a clue?" George said.

"No," she shook her head. "Neither does Harry, and they will _never _know. If they ever find out, I'll know exactly who to go to." Her eyes were narrowed further, and neither twin had a doubt that retribution would indeed occur.

Hermione felt herself grow sicker as the twins left, still grinning madly like a pair of Cheshire cats. She walked out into the waiting room, feeling a jolt as she saw how bored Danny looked, and she took him home, bidding farewell to Jen.

* * *

"You seem tired today, Herms," Ron said conversationally at dinner that evening. She nodded slightly, her mind entirely elsewhere. Danny was eating in silence, as Hermione had made him promise not to mention Draco yet to Ron. 

"Long day," she replied, taking her plate to the sink. She stalked towards her room, a nap in mind, leaving the other two to finish. She felt horribly fevered, but layered on as many blankets as she could find.

Ron found her as she was drifting off, in the early stages of over-heating, and he took a seat on the bed, resting his hand on her forehead.

"Ron," she said softly, eyes fluttering open. "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you, Hermione," he replied, taken aback. She sat up, connecting with his eyes.

"Do you really? Or do you love me as a friend, the way I love Harry?"

"I... why are you asking this?" Ron's eyes held concern.

"Because, Ron. Because I'm not sure that I ever really moved beyond a platonic love for you, and I'm not entirely sure that you have either," her voice was shaking. "The only reason we were together in the first place was because you and Harry _pitied _me. You went out with me because I was depressed, and you wanted to see me happy. I don't think I'm happy now, Ron."

"Of course I love you, Hermione, I have for years," he struggled with the words, averting his gaze.

"You used to love the idea of dating me at Hogwarts, Ron. I don't think love itself ever actually occurred to you. I'm not positive you've ever truly been in love, Ron. It's an amazing feeling, really," she pressed on, unaware of what she was saying to him. "If you're in love, you'd never doubt that you are. It surrounds you every moment, whether you're awake or asleep. I know you don't feel that way for me." Her voice broke, as she drew in a shuddering breath, staring at the redhead who looked as if she had slapped him.

"I don't think I can marry you Ron," she said in a hollow tone, withdrawing the engagement ring from her finger, and tucking it safely into Ron's pliable palm.

"I suppose you're right, Hermione," Ron said quietly, closing his fist tighter over the ring. "This wouldn't have worked out."

She stared at him, shocked. He gave her a bit of a crooked smile.

"I think I'm going to go now," she said, pulling out her wand and quickly packing hers and Danny's possessions into a suitcase with it. "I'll owl you, Ron. I just want to be friends again. Do you think we could do that?" She bit her lip, gazing at him nervously. He nodded.

"I'm sure we could."

She took her bag, walking into the living room to take Danny's hand, and apparated to the flat with the black sheets, and the luxurious decor. The single occupant glanced up in surprise as the pair of them appeared, and as his eyes fixed on her in disbelief, her heart gave a subconscious jolt. She dropped her bag and her son's hand, walked over and threw her arms around Draco, burying her face in his neck.

He wrapped his arms tighly around her, watching as Danny wandered off to explore the flat, and a light grin crossed his features.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, kissing her hair. She shook her head, slowly withdrawing.

"Can me and Danny stay here for a while?" She stared worriedly at him, biting her lip once more. Draco watched her closely, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"I suppose so, on one condition." He seemed to consider her, expression neutral once again. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "tell me you love me."

"I love you so fucking much, Draco Malfoy," she breathed, and that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed, and he captured her lips in a searing, heart-breaking kiss, that got under her skin, and filled her with passion. Her hands were buried deep within his platinum hair, his were reaching down to gently peel off her sweater.

During the momentary disconnection of their lips, Hermione's eyes snapped open to see a snowy white owl outside of the window, an owl she would've recognized anywhere. She pulled away in terror, bracing herself on Draco's shoulders, before walking over to the window to let Hedwig in.

_Hermione_, the letter began.

_I have no idea where you are, but I trust that Hedwig will get this letter to you. I've spoken to Ron, and though he seems to be fine about this ordeal, I'm beyond confused. Was it all just too rushed? Come stay with me, you probably have nowhere else to go. If not, will you meet me tomorrow, at the Leaky Cauldron? It'll be Saturday, so can we say noon? Here for you,_

_Harry_

Hermione folded up the letter, tucking it into her pocket. Draco seemed to know better than to ask about it, so he entwined his fingers in hers, giving her hand a quick squeeze. She pulled him down the hallway, stopping outside of a room, grinning as she saw Danny fast asleep in the guest room.

Draco wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. She pulled the door to Danny's room shut, allowing herself to be taken down the rest of the hallway, succumbing to Draco's fingers as they set to work on her jeans. By the time they reached the room, the black sheets calling out to Hermione, she was mad with desire. There was nothing she wanted more than to shove the impending confrontation to the back of her mind, surrendering the remainder of her conscious thought to Draco.

He had always known _just _how to set her off.


	7. Chaos

Well then... so apparently it's been over four years since I've updated this one, and I've had this chapter sitting there nearly completed for a couple years now. Finally cracked down and finished it.

I can't remember exactly at what point in time this began, but it was certainly before the conclusion of the series, and so almost everything in it no longer relates to the canon Harry Potter series. Regardless, I find myself recently back into fanfiction and hope to update at least this and one other of my never been completed stories.

Hope you enjoy. If so, let me know; it may give me a bit more incentive to get back into this. Thanks :)

* * *

Everything that had seemed suddenly perfect the night before, collapsed completely the very next morning. Hermione hadn't gone to meet Harry; instead she had stayed in bed with Draco all morning, relaxing in his warmth and familiarity.

Truthfully, she was terrified. Mind-numbingly afraid of facing Harry. And so she had cheated her way out, by staying in the strong arms of her very own Death Eater. Draco had no problems with the setup.

By one o'clock, when she finally dragged herself out of bed, there had been three letters from Hedwig, all of which she had returned without opening, shaking slightly in her refusal. Harry was her best friend. But he was also a top Auror, and she knew that her running off with Draco Malfoy wasn't going to make him happy.

Draco had set to work almost instantly when Danny woke up, showing him a book on Quidditch. Apparently five years old was a late start for his future as a Quidditch professional. Not if Hermione had any say in it.

By two, there had been another owl fly into the flat, and Draco's own owl was becoming quite fed up with all of the unwanted company.

_Hermione Granger_, the letter began in unknown cursive. _Where the bloody fuck are you? You've got Harry dancing around like a Muggle ballerina searching for you. We have a pretty good idea. If you ignore us, we'll assume correct. If you reply, we'll know we're correct. If you reply, we won't be as tempted to tell your two wonder boys where you are. Fred and George._

Hermione held back an episode of frustration as she pulled out a quill and furiously scribbled a reply.

_Think what you like. Just _don't _tell!_

She sent the owl off again, sighing as she collapsed onto the couch. It wasn't twenty minutes before Hedwig flew back into the flat, looking slightly worse for the wear.

_Hermione, Fred and George claim you've answered their owl, and they're being positively infuriating. They refuse to tell Ron and I, and we're nearly on our last nerve. We've tried following Hedwig but it seems wherever you are has intense shielding charms. We just want to talk to you, Hermione. _

Fred and George's owl returned shortly, assuring her that she was safe. After she had written another hasty reply, Draco walked over, threw the owl out the window, and slammed it shut, locking the owls out.

Hermione met his eyes with confusion and desperation, and gave him a type of relieved smile.

"You know some _psychotic_ people," he said in a low voice, still locked in her gaze. "For now, we're going to keep the owls away, alright?"

She nodded, taking a deep breath as he walked her to the sofa. Danny scooted over, showing her some pictures in his quidditch book.

"Draco, is your flat actually protected by charms?" Hermione had been curious since Harry's last letter.

"Of course it is. Every type of shielding, concealing, disillusionment and otherwise charm is on this place," he replied nonchalantly.

"So how did I manage to apparate in here last night?"

"The flat knows who I trust and care about. Evidently the two of you are accepted." He shot her a smirk, his eyes flashing.

"Yeah? Who else would it allow entrance?" Hermione asked, smiling back.

"No one," he replied, pointing out one particular chaser sequence to Danny. "Well, Blaise, I suppose."

"I liked Blaise," she replied absently, remembering him from seventh year. Draco took a seat next to Hermione, reaching an arm around her back. He fiddled with a loose curl from Hermione's hair, and she leaned her head back into his shoulder.

"Draco, can we play Quidditch?" Danny asked loudly, disrupting the moment. Draco leaned forward, watching his son on the other side of Hermione.

"What, right now?" Draco asked, feigning shock. Danny nodded excitedly.

"Draco," Hermione muttered under her breath. "He doesn't have a broom."

"Oh, right! Hermione, did I forget to tell you what Danny and I bought shopping yesterday?" He grinned, nodding in Danny's direction, who ran off and came back with a suspiciously shaped package. Hermione stared in disbelief.

"You're serious about teaching him Quidditch, are you?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied. "I actually can't believe he's never been on a broom before. I was _almost_ riding a broom before I was walking."

Hermione shook her head, resolving herself to allowing Draco to teach Daniel the basics of brooms.

"Keep him safe, will you?" she asked, knowing she had no reason to worry. His look confirmed her thoughts, as if she had asked him to walk around the flat on his head.

"Yeah, I will," he replied after very little consideration.

Once the two males had left the flat for the expansive yard, Hermione set out on her own journey. She planned to explore the flat, and see what she was getting herself into. She hadn't been lying; she really did love Draco, as much as she had tried to force herself out of it for five long years, and she certainly didn't regret leaving Ron for him.

Although he wasn't making any point of hiding the fact that he was a Death Eater from her. If anything, it was nearly the exact opposite. He'd yet to let Danny know however, which relieved Hermione immensely.

She knew that someday Draco would want Danny to know the pair were related, and that someday Danny would have to know the truth, but she planned to procrastinate that detail until Draco became fixated on it.

In the meanwhile, she'd try to discover as much as she could about the man she had truly met through Lord Voldemort. For herself only, of course. She was firmly positioned as neutral in the war.

After a highly thorough search of the flat, the only thing Hermione found that might lend itself to Dark Magic was Draco's wand, which surprisingly, he hadn't taken outside with him. That, and several thick books with Latin titles. One or two of the covers depicted blood and decapitation. She made sure to move those books far to the back of the shelf, where her son couldn't reach them.

Meaning to pick up Draco's wand and take it outside to him, she reached for it, unprepared for it to be so hot to the touch. It felt like the wand was literally on fire, and she quickly recoiled her hand. Deciding it probably didn't matter all that much, Hermione changed her mind and walked outside to visit Danny and Draco.

When she saw only the taller blond, Hermione instantly became worried. Draco may have said he'd keep Danny safe, but really, he had no parenting experience. Maybe Danny had fallen or hit something.

She relaxed when Draco looked over at her as she approached, a light smile upon his lips. He reached loosely behind her back, pulling her closer to him, curiously silent.

"Draco, where's–" Hermione was cut off as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Shh," she felt his breath more than heard what he said. He couldn't resist a quick bite to her earlobe. He had always loved her ears. "He's being stealthy." Eyebrows raised in understanding, Hermione stood still herself, as if to aid Danny in his stealth.

And though she knew it was coming, Hermione still jumped as her son zoomed up beside her on a broomstick, grinning widely.

"Hi, Mum!" Danny said as he saw her standing there. "Draco's been teaching me so much. I love flying."

Hermione smiled over at Draco, though the smile faded as she saw he looked rather distracted. Danny took off once more on his expensive children's broomstick and Draco snapped to his senses, turning to Hermione.

"I've got to go for a while," he said, almost apologetically. Before Hermione could question him, she looked down to see him gripping his left forearm, and her stomach dropped.

"Oh. Right, well. See you," she said, feeling oddly sick. She somehow had forgotten that he was truly a Death Eater in more than just a title.

"It won't be long, I'm sure." He bit his lip, staring at her closely. "You alright?"

"Yeah." She forced a smile. "I don't suppose I should tell you to have a good time." For a second, she allowed herself to wonder who might be there that she'd remember. Blaise probably, and Millicent.

He watched her for a moment, his grey eyes showing concern. "If you don't want me to go, I–"

"Go, Draco. It'll be fine," she replied, waving as Danny flew past. Draco noticed Danny himself, and wrapped his arms quickly around Hermione's frame, kissing her inconspicuously. When he drew back, he was gone.

Danny flew back towards Hermione, dismounting.

"Where did Draco go?" he asked, frowning.

"He had to go out for a bit," Hermione replied, feeling distant.

"Are you and Draco dating now?" Danny pressed, truly curious.

"I suppose so, yes," she said, allowing herself to smile. "As long as you don't mind, Danny. Do you like Draco?"

"Yes," he nodded. "He's more fun than Ron. And he lets me fly." Hermione laughed, messing her son's hair.

"That's good to hear."

Draco, it turned out, had been correct in assuming he wouldn't be gone for very long. The meeting was no more than an hour, but by the time he got home it was too late for Danny to be outside flying.

He had seemed entirely confused and distraught since he had arrived back at the flat. He had hardly greeted Hermione, not bothered to eat any dinner, and had stalked off to his room with only a quick smile at his son.

Hermione had followed, quietly opening the door and shutting it behind her. He was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, eyes shut. One eye cracked open as he heard her enter, and he gave her a wry smile.

"Tell me what happened," she stated, taking a seat next to him.

"I can't," he replied shortly.

"Does it involve me?" she asked. He nodded. "Then tell me." He sighed, resolving to her determination.

"They already know about you leaving Weasley. Blaise has pieced it together, and is positive you're here." He sounded tired. "They figure you're back with us, even though I denied it."

"What did you tell them?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing, really," he said, pausing. "Just that I was unable to convince you. Since it wasn't really an order to begin with no one seemed to care a hell of a lot."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" She took his hand nervously in hers. He looked down at their clasped hands as if he had never seen such an act before. He looked into her soft brown eyes, shining with worry.

"Course not," he said quietly. He stroked her hand reassuringly. "So, are you going to work on Monday?"

She froze. Somehow in the chaos of the weekend she had forgotten about work. And how Ron and Harry would look for her there. And how if Danny went anywhere, they'd be able to find her.

"I suppose I have to," she shrugged. "I don't know what to do about Danny, though. All of his friends' parents know Harry."

"Hermione, I can take care of him," Draco stated. "He was fine last time, wasn't he?"

"I know, Draco," she sighed. "I'm just too protective of him."

"Don't be. He's quite intelligent, no?" Hermione laughed, grateful for something to lift her spirits. If Harry and Ron confronted her at work, she didn't know what she'd do. She imagined she'd be able to bluff them off course. Or else she could get Jen to block them from her office.

"Hey," he muttered, pulling her back to the present. "Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

"Yeah," Hermione murmured, kissing him softly. "I wish I could believe you."

"Okay no more of this anxious Hermione business," he stated, tossing her down onto the bed and crawling over her, kissing her neck. "Danny will be fine, you and I will be fine... and worst case scenario, I hear Azkaban has been fixed up quite nicely in recent years."

Eyes glinting, he kissed her before she could protest, however he paused shortly after and stood back up.

"Don't go anywhere, you look delicious," he said in response to her curious smile. "What sort of father would I be if I didn't tuck my son in to sleep?"

Hermione laughed, eyes lit up and Draco winked before walking out of the room.

He was back within moments, kissing her with a deep passion, and she felt her worries slip away with each touch. Suddenly she felt that he was right; they would be fine. Because this was what mattered, really; everything else was just auxiliary details. What did a war matter when you had a man like this and a son like Danny to love?


End file.
